


Threw a penny on the pavement

by lovestillaround



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Depression, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-27 01:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15013766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovestillaround/pseuds/lovestillaround
Summary: he would lock himself in his room for days





	Threw a penny on the pavement

**  
2012**

It is a short moment of inconsistency. Dan has always brushed his teeth after breakfast – he’s a decent person after all, he doesn’t want to have caries or a stinky breath – but one day he decides not to do it.

A couple of days later he decides to not eat breakfast at all. He’s in the kitchen even though he isn’t planning on eating. Being there is quite pointless but for some reason he can’t bring himself to get up and go somewhere else.

“You must be hungry,” Phil says pouring milk into his bowl of cereal.

“No.” This answer sounds rude. It sounds unpleasant to Dan’s ears and still, he doesn’t do anything to make it better. He doesn’t add _I’ll eat something later_ or _don’t worry, sometimes I’m just not hungry, it happens and it’s nothing alarming, I swear_. He doesn’t say anything at all and lets the guilt settle into his mind instead.

“Are you getting sick?” Phil’s voice is gentle. Empathetic, as usual. Worried. Dan knows what he means, he knows exactly what the question means, but his brain decides to add something to it, as if it wasn’t finished. ( _Are you getting sick of me? Are you getting sick of yourself? Of us?_ )

“Don’t think so,” he mumbles rubbing his face. He’s just woken up but he’s still so sleepy that even keeping his eyes open seems like something difficult. He decides to make himself some coffee.

–

The bitter aftertaste of the drink still fills the inside of his mouth when he goes to pee. He washes his hands, and then sticks out his tongue staring at the reflection in the mirror. A big part of it is not really red or pink, the true colour is hidden under a big stain of coffee. It looks quite disgusting but he doesn’t care enough to reach for the toothbrush. The toothpaste has this weird opening, the thing that you need to unscrew and unscrew for such a long time, and then you need to put it on the shelf of the sink, and then there is the tube that you need to squeeze – too much effort, and he’s not even by the brushing part yet.

–

Sometimes he eats breakfast. Sometimes he wakes up at 4 a.m. and then he manages to have a meal with Phil at a time that is rather decent.

Sometimes he falls asleep at 4 a.m. and then he wakes up late and has dinner for breakfast. Both is good. Eating is good, and that’s what he’s always telling himself, even if he goes to the kitchen in the middle of the night to grab some leftovers.

Even when he feels disgusted with himself when he’s sitting at a table in the dark, barely seeing the food he’s eating in the dim light of the streetlights outside the window.

Sometimes he accidentally wakes Phil up – when he gets out of the bed or when he comes back. Sometimes Phil laughs, saying that his night trips into the kitchen are cute.

  
–

Increasingly, he finds himself being able to do certain things and totally unable to do others. In the evening, he has no problem with going to the kitchen to grab some food or something to drink. He spends hours in his bed with a laptop on his thighs or on his chest or somewhere in between, scrolling mindlessly through the websites, switching between the tabs, watching videos and films or sometimes even writing down ideas for his new videos, if only he gets inspired. The thing he absolutely can’t do is getting dressed.

He usually sleeps with only his boxers on, wearing pyjamas only if he’s sick or cold or both. Now he always falls asleep wearing the exact same clothes he’s had on for the entire day, or – quite often – multiple days. Oh, and he falls asleep without Phil.

  
–

  
“Dan?”

His body is moving, swaying back and forth, and for a moment he is too confused to realise why. It’s Phil, of course it’s him, shaking Dan’s shoulder.

“Dan, are you okay?”

He opens his eyes and he realises that his laptop is still on, and that it looks as if it has fallen from his lap. One side of it is still attached to his leg, and in the moment of haze Dan thinks that it looks like a slide. Phil leans over and puts it away on the other side of the bed, and then sits down, right beside Dan’s chest.

Dan closes his eyes again because he doesn’t want to look at Phil, he doesn’t want to see his sad, worried expression, he doesn’t want to talk with him. He assumes that Phil wants an explanation but he doesn’t have one.

Phil doesn’t say anything but Dan feels his hand on his forehead, and then fingers running through the curls because of course he’s been too lazy to straighten them after he got from the shower. When did he have a shower? He doesn’t remember if it was yesterday or maybe two days ago. He’s been mostly awake at night and he has lost the sense of time.

Then he comes to a conclusion that it must have been two days ago because he stinks. He definitely can sense the unpleasant scent of sweat, his sweat. He reaches out to cover himself up with the blanket because he doesn’t want Phil to see him in a state like this but then he realises that the blanket is still under him, and not over his body.

“Baby, talk to me.” Phil’s voice is there once again and Dan regrets that he can’t shut his ears close in the same way as he closes his eyes. “Are you sick? Are you in pain?”

He shakes his head because it seems like the only thing he can do. Phil’s hand is still stroking his hair and Dan would like to tell him to stop doing it, that it’s too gross, but he suddenly can’t bring himself to say a whole sentence.

“M’fine,” he mumbles, hoping that Phil would just go away. A part of him wants him to stay, wants to feel Phil’s embrace, arms wrapped tightly around his body, but he’s too sweaty, too gross.

“I’ll make you coffee, alright?”

Dan hums even though he thinks that he probably is going to fall asleep in the moment Phil leaves the room.

  
–

  
He really does fall asleep before Phil comes back but Phil wakes him up again because apparently, he hasn’t left his room for almost twenty hours.

The coffee is too hot to drink so he just lies in bed with Phil sitting by his side.

“Can you sit up?” Phil’s hand is in his hair once again. Dan thinks that it must be greasy, that it must feel disgusting, and he has no idea why Phil is so eager to touch him like this. “You’re gonna fall asleep again.”

_Then why won’t you just let me?_ – he wants to ask but when he looks up at Phil he sees fear. It surprises him because Phil doesn’t sound scared, not at all, but he has eyes of a terrified deer.

“What time is it?” Dan asks in a hoarse voice, sitting up. Now that he actually needs to use his muscles, he realises how sore his body has become.

“Ten.”

“In the morning?”

“In the evening.”

He wonders for a moment what Phil has been doing the whole day. Then he realises that it’s a dangerous area, and that he needs to take a step back – he can’t go there.

“I just wanted to check on you, Dan.” Now Phil sounds scared. Not much, but maybe it makes Dan’s brain release some stress hormones because he feels more awoken almost immediately. He wants to say something comforting. He corrects his position to sit up straighter so that Phil can see that he’s fine, _he’s fine_ , he’s not asleep anymore, and he has enough fucking energy to go through his life as a functional human being.

“I’m fine,” he says but Phil doesn’t believe him. He looks away and bites his lip, and he doesn’t say anything but Dan feels like he’s being betrayed. Phil is supposed to believe him. He suddenly feels irrational anger – it’s absurd because Phil has every right to get worried when his boyfriend locks himself in his room for a whole fucking day without even getting out to use the toilet. It’s strange – Dan realises – so strange that he doesn’t even feel the need to pee. He asks himself when was the last time he drank water but he doesn’t remember. He looks at the bedside table but there’s no glass on it, the only drink is the cup of coffee that Phil has brought him.

“Why did you make me coffee when it’s evening?”

“I don’t know.”

It’s terrifying because Phil’s voice is blank, completely blank, but the breath he takes in after is audibly shaky. Dan regrets asking the question, and he regrets spending the last twenty-four hours like this. He thinks that he should’ve been better, more responsible, _more fucking human_. He feels like a ghost but making Phil look like one is much worse.

The look Phil gives him is almost equally bad. It’s plain sadness, and it’s all Dan’s fault, it’s all his own stupidity, his irresponsibility. Phil makes a move as if he wants to lean over and hug him but Dan pushes him away. He can’t let it happen, he doesn’t want to be touched, not when he’s so disgusting with his clothes soaked in sweat and his hair covered in oil.

He turns his gaze away from Phil to look at the lamp on the ceiling. For the first time in his life he feels like he’s actually sinking, as if the bedsheets had turned into water and decided to swallow him in. He presumes that he’s being melodramatic but he can’t escape this feeling of slow falling. Maybe he’s just dizzy.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Dan, and I don’t – I don’t even know if you know what’s wrong. I only know that something isn’t right.”

Dan closes his eyes wondering when listening to other people has become so exhausting.

“You always seem tired and your sleep is terrible, and you skip the meals. I don’t want to freak you out, I mean, I’m the one that freaks out over everything –“

“Phil, what are you talking about?” Dan isn’t sure if he asks the question because he really wants to know what Phil is trying to say or if he’s just annoyed by him stating the obvious. Dan is aware of all these things, he doesn’t need to hear them, it’s painful to hear them, especially from Phil.

“I looked it up. I looked it up and it might be – well, there are a lot of illnesses that have these symptoms.”

Dan almost chuckles. He chuckles in his mind but the sound doesn’t quite make it to his throat. “So now you’re worried that I might have what – cancer?”

“Dan, don’t joke about it.” Phil’s voice is much harsher than usual, much more serious. Dan decides to shut up. He doesn’t have anything clever to say anyway.

“I’m worried, Dan. After that time you were sick and needed to have a surgery I’m not going to brush anything off, you know?”

Dan tries to analyse it for a moment. What are the chances that he’s actually ill? It’s not like he’s never thought about it but it would be embarrassing to seek medical help only to find out that he’s lazy and shouldn’t stay up all night.

“I’m not even in pain this time, everything is fine.”

“Dan. Please, go the doctor. Please. Tell them how you feel, ask for a blood test.” Phil sounds like he wants to add something but in the end he doesn’t. They’re just waiting in silence for something to happen. Phil for sure is waiting for Dan to say something.

Dan decides to continue to wonder if he might be sick. The probability that something wrong is happening inside of his body is not zero. Maybe he has some disease that makes him tired, sleepy and nauseous, a disease that destroys his organs and won’t stop until he does something about it or dies. He doesn’t want to die.

As long as it all had been in his head he could pretend that it wasn’t happening. Now, when Phil is sitting here, talking about how worried he is, Dan can’t ignore it anymore. He wants to feel better and maybe he needs to face it.

“Okay, I can do it.”

Phil’s hand touches his forearm this time and Dan knows that this gesture symbolises relief.

  
–

  
He needs to get up in the morning to go to the doctor. He needs to shower, he needs to call a taxi, he needs to open the door of his apartment and go down the stairs and then open another door and finally get outside. It’s good, feeling the cold wind on his cheeks and being able to breathe the fresh air seems like a reward for getting out of bed. Dan thinks it was worth overcoming his tiredness.

Maybe he can continue like this, maybe the solution is bringing himself to go outside every day and then everything would come back to normal. He doesn’t feel sick anymore, he feels good, and he ponders whether he should cancel the appointment. He promised Phil though, he promised that he would go and he suddenly feels sad at the thought of letting him down.

  
–

  
When he hears _“you might be depressed”_ a couple of days later during his second appointment, it takes all of his willpower to not just stand up and leave the doctor’s office without saying a word.

**  
  
2015**  
  
“Your therapist said – “

“I don’t care about that!”

They are on the opposite sides of the kitchen, as if getting closer would make them explode or burn to ashes. Dan is angry, he is so tired of people treating him like a person without free will, he is tired of Phil belittling him in this way. He takes a deep breath though, and then a second one, knowing that screaming is not the way to resolve any conflict. He’s already taken one step too far.

“I am myself, Phil, and I want to do what I want,” he says in a much calmer voice.

Phil is staring at him, possibly still surprised with Dan’s outburst. It’s not often that they scream at each other. Dan wants to just walk away because he’s tired and maybe the only thing that keeps him in place are his masochistic tendencies.

“I don’t think it’s good for you,” Phil says slowly and he isn’t trying to make him angry, Dan knows that. Phil’s probably trying to understand and help. He’s probably trying to be rational in this situation.

The problem is that Dan doesn’t feel rational. He feels like a volcano, full of hot ass fucking lava ready to explode or maybe it’s already happening but he can’t see it through the thick smoke surrounding everything. His head is like a burning pot.

“Phil, I’m sorry, but I am more qualified than you to say what’s the best for me,” he says surprised that he even manages to unclench his jaw.

“Okay.”

That’s it. Phil turns around and takes out a mug from the cupboard, and then goes through their collection of teas as if conversation is over, or maybe as if it has never happened at all.

“Are you angry with me now?” Dan asks because he doesn’t understand. It feels like they’re both on some kind of edge, and he isn’t sure how close they are from falling.

“No.”

Phil continues making his tea not turning around even once. Dan waits for a moment before he leaves the kitchen, as if he hopes that things would magically get better. Maybe he really is a child.

He knows that it’s a thing Phil does – backing up when there’s any conflict on the horizon – but it still kind of hurts.

  
–

  
There’s a knock on his door, on the same day, only a couple of hours later. Dan doesn’t react. He barely even cares but he knows that Phil would come in eventually if he doesn’t answer. It’s not the first time when it happens, and Dan desperately tries to save himself from drowning in self-guilt when he thinks about it. He knows it’s not healthy.

He hears Phil opening the door and taking a few steps in.

“Are you asleep?” Phil whispers when he’s a bit closer. Dan answers with a hum.

“I wanted to ask if you’re hungry,” Phil says this time sitting down on the bed. He always chooses this place, on the right, near Dan’s chest, close enough to be able to reach him at any moment.

“I’m not.”

There is silence that makes Dan anxious of the things Phil is going to say. He doesn’t want to start a fight, he doesn’t want to argue, to be fair – he doesn’t even want to talk.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you feel disregarded,” Phil says. For some reason, it makes Dan want to cry.

The conversation they had before was about Dan locking himself in his room. He’s been doing it quite a lot in the last few days. He was coming out to get himself something to drink or to go the toilet. He had a shower, once. That’s it, basically.

Dan can’t blame Phil for trying keep him from separating himself from others. He doesn’t fully understand his own behaviour, he only knows that when it gets worse he doesn’t want anyone to watch his shame. He doesn’t want anyone to see him in a state like this – when he is physically dirty, when he feels weak, when he eats junk food in his bed and gets up only if he absolutely has to.

He isn’t good at accepting himself. Accepting his illness seems even harder.

“It’s okay,” he whispers looking up at Phil. He wishes he could tell the same words to himself and actually believe it. “I mean… Don’t force it on me, okay? I know that I was doing better for weeks but now I feel bad.”

He sees Phil’s expression shifting, but he doesn’t know if it’s sadness or regret. Phil doesn’t answer at first, and Dan can’t tell if he’s being reluctant or careful. He only knows that he didn’t want it to end like this. They shouldn’t be arguing. He isn’t sure if it even was an argument, but it was surely a pure communication disaster and they both should be already better than this.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’ve been thinking,” Phil says putting his hand on Dan’s side and stroking it. Dan thinks that he must be doing it mindlessly but he isn’t sure.

He would say that he doesn’t know what to do but he doesn’t want Phil to think that figuring that out is his task or his responsibility. He wishes everything could be easier. It hasn’t been long since he started therapy and he still doesn’t know how to deal with anything. They both need time to learn, probably.

Phil leans over and hugs him. Dan can’t bring himself to give it back but he hopes that Phil won’t hold it against him.

 

**2018**  
  
“Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“I feel like it’s coming back.”

Dan likes being vague but Phil always needs some clarification. “What’s coming back?” he asks. He looks pretty even in the morning. His eyes are puffy and his hair is all messy, and maybe he has morning breath but Dan doesn’t know because he’s too far away.

“I have the urge to isolate myself.”

Phil’s expression changes, it looks as if he gets more careful. He thinks about the answer for a while.

“You know that you can take some time away from me, anytime you want.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “Oh yes, I would love to go alone to the Bahamas again. Had such a good time there.”

“You could do it.”

Phil is still looking at him, intensely but with a gentle smile on his lips, as if trying to communicate that as much as joking is cool, it doesn’t actually bring them any closer to solve any problem. Dan gets the hint.

“But it’s – it’s not like this, Phil,” he says eventually. “I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to lock myself in another room and stuff my cheeks with pizza.”

“Well, you’re not a hamster as far as I’m concerned,” Phil says moving closer to Dan, only a little, so that he can reach out and caress his jaw. “Can I help?”

Dan still feels weird sometimes when he talks about his emotions, even with Phil. He needs to quiet the voices in his head telling him that it’s egocentric, that it’s bothering, that it isn’t right. He sometimes wonders if anything would be different if boys were taught to openly talk about their feelings.

“It’s hard to help if my brain is telling me that I shouldn’t be around anyone.”

“You don’t have to be around me all the time. But I’m here if you need me.”

“I do. I need you.”

He’s a little desperate when he reaches out for Phil and when he cuddles into him, trying to make himself smaller. Phil understands, or at least accepts it without questions. He pulls him closer and holds him, whispering _it’s okay, I’m here_ into his hair. Dan still hopes that radicalisation is a helpful method, that if only he would do the thing that scares him without thinking about it too much, all his fear would quickly disappear. It doesn’t always work.

Also, he can’t really say that he’s scared of being around Phil. It’s rather a weird impuls, maybe something primal that tells him to run away because his brain works in a fucked-up way and activates an alarm for danger even when there’s no need to do it.

“I don’t understand it, Phil. I don’t understand why my brain is still doing this to me.”

Phil hums in understanding. Dan often wonders how much it hurts him, how painful it is to look at someone knowing that there’s so much turmoil in their head. Phil’s always there, he’s always there trying to learn, being supportive, coming up with some helpful ideas. He’s there to support him with the most trivial things, support him emotionally, when they’re at home or when they’re outside. He always emphasises that they’re in this together.

“Maybe try to shut up your brain by focusing on what you feel,” he says slowly sliding his palm down Dan’s spine, and then up again. “Does it feel nice?”

It feels nice, Dan can’t deny it. It’s relaxing and it feels homely because it is Phil touching him. It feels safe but he is apparently very good at finding out small things that just don’t feel right.

“It does. But it doesn’t feel like I deserve it.”

“You deserve everything, Dan.” Phil sounds like he believes it. Dan is more rational and he knows that there are many flaws that he needs to work on and therefore he can’t deserve everything. Maybe he is a little hard on himself.

Maybe it’s another thing that he needs to work on. He’s still learning how to let go and it might be a paradox that the better he gets at it, the stronger he holds onto Phil.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](https://lovestillaround.tumblr.com/)


End file.
